


The Midsummer Collection

by AdvisedPanic



Series: Here There Be Dragons [3]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Canon Divergence, Collection Work, Gen, Here there be dragons, Iron Man 1, M/M, OC heavy, Other, Prompts Welcome, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Vignettes, leave me and my dragon children alone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 03:34:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16359959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdvisedPanic/pseuds/AdvisedPanic
Summary: A collection of the missing moments of June, Tony, Loki, and company.





	The Midsummer Collection

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!! Welcome back!!
> 
> I'm immediately sorry for any disappointment that this isn't the sequel. I know!! I'm sorry!! The sequel is going to be written, in its entirety, during National Novel Writing Month. I'll begin posting after November!! In the meantime, here's some moments from AWKWWG universe! I really missed these kids :')
> 
> I highly suggest reading the first work of this series first. This doesn't stand on its own! These chapters are going to be shorter than the actual story-driven ones, too. 
> 
> This chapter: Rhodey and Pepper spending time with June. Thanks for the idea, Jinx_the_Angel_of_Purgatory!
> 
> TW: needles

**MAY 2010**

**SOMEWHERE OVER AFGHANISTAN**

James Rhodes knows, deep in his gut, that Tony Stark is alive. Someone as big, as charismatic, as fucking insurmountable and stubborn as Tony Stark can’t just disappear into the mountains of some war-torn country. It’s almost impossible to imagine.

So, he doesn’t. He sets out for another search, and then another, and then another. Each time they comb quadrants of sand and mountains and abandoned towns, hoping for a sign, a signal, a speck of life with a slick smile. They look. And look. And look.

And then they get lucky.

They crest over the top of a high-risen dune and spot, first, a line of disrupted sand; James’ eyes naturally follow the line until he spots a figure, hand waving joyously above their head.

“It’s him!” James says over the mics. His heart is in his throat. He _knows_ it’s Tony. “Drop us down!”

Affirmatives reach him as the choppers circle, landing away from the kneeling figure. James jumps down from the chopper and sprints towards his friend, now visible and recognizable through sunburn and long, dark hair.  Tony’s skin is sweltered red under the Afghan sun, his arms and neck and face blistered into red welts and tight stretches. James barely recognizes that Tony is holding something to his chest—but as he approaches, grinning through fear and heart-stopping relief, his eyes drop from Tony’s face to his chest.

There’s a bright blue light peeking out from beneath a writhing bundle of dark fabric. Tony is holding the bundle to his chest like a mother would her baby; one of his hands is tattooed up in odd, runic patterns that James knows for _certain_ wasn’t there the last time James saw him. James recoils briefly, thinking it’s a child, but suddenly a snake-like head peaks out from the folds of the shirt.

Tony coos, “Baby girl, we’re okay, we’re saved…”

James goes to his knee. It’s not a snake. The creature’s eyes are too blue, too wide; as the head turns towards him, yellow-gold scales catch in the afternoon sun and almost burn his eyes. Tony’s arms carefully move about the bundle, which is the size of a cat, and a long lizard tail uncurls from his arm, the end flicking tiredly.

“Tony…” James says, slowly. He comes closer, kneeling down in front of his friend. “What’s…?”

Tony grins, but it’s shaking at the corners, his whole body wobbling. “Rhodey, meet baby girl,” he says thickly. He holds the bundle up a little closer to his chest, blocking the weird blue light that’s glowing from his chest. He’s breathing in short, heavy pants. “Baby girl, meet Rhodey.”

The creature—baby girl—makes a _meep_ sound that curls with a reptilian whistle _._

“Good girl,” Tony whispers. He tilts precariously forward, off-kilter; he’s exhibiting a half dozen signs of heatstroke. Rhodey reaches out without thinking and grabs Tony’s shoulders, pulling his friend and the lizard-thing into his chest.

“I’ve got you, Tones,” Rhodey says, letting Tony curl into his body. He briefly expects a howling, spitting lizard to claw at his gut, but all he feels is a soft, kneading pressure against his stomach, and he hears a series of interested, happy sounds from the creature. He pulls Tony closer and thinks about the weird tattoo on Tony’s hand. “I’ve got you both.”

*

Turns out Tony Stark hatched a fucking _dragon egg_ in some backwater cave in Afghanistan.

“Of course this would happen to you,” Rhodey says. Said dragon is laying firmly on Tony’s chest, keeping him lying down on the medical cot in the Kabul field hospital they’re stationed in until they’ve got a flight back to the States. Since Tony has heatstroke, a sprained wrist, and a mild concussion, they’re not permitted to fly out until tomorrow.

Tony laughs. It devolves briefly into a dry cough. “Hey, I didn’t even want it to happen there,” he offers. His hands are firmly resting on the dragon’s sides. The dragon’s wings are still torn and sluggishly bleeding, but Tony’s said three times now she’s not ready to be touched.

 “Sure,” Rhodey replies, grinning. Tony smiles in return and then directs his smile to the dragon as she raises her head, licking at the underside of his chin. Rhodey inexplicably feels like he’s intruding when he sees Tony’s face melt into something so warm and loving that it feels intimate.

“Okay,” Tony says a handful of minutes later. He lifts his eyes from the dragon’s and grins a little shakily at Rhodey. “She’s ready for some stiches.”

Rhodey nods and pats Tony’s bicep before fetching a nurse—one of two that are cleared to see Tony and his dragon—and she enters his private room with a suture kit. Tony is softly whispering to the dragon, patting her sides, and tells Rhodey, “She’ll let you hold her wings out, Rhodey.”

Rhodey nods. He approaches the dragon like he would a cat—slowly, carefully, and only reaching out after he’s met its eyes. Baby girl watches him, head curled, and then deliberately looks away, tucking her head into Tony’s neck.

“Mr. Stark,” the field nurse says, “We were able to locate animal anesthetic. It’s your call if you want us to try using it with her.”

Tony worries his lip. “Yeah. Try it.”

“Of course,” she says. “Colonel Rhodes, if you would?”

Rhodey carefully grabs ahold of the dragon’s left wing, spreading it slowly; he remembers doing something like this as a kid, when he and his friends found an injured bird on the side of the street and Rhodey carefully spread its wing, looking for the damage, careful of the thin bones and layered feathers. Now it’s different: the wing is connected with a thin, translucent membrane that looks like wet, bronze silk. The bony spines are thin and barely scaled and spread willingly as Rhodey pulls them apart.

The nurse injects three quick shots of anesthetic into the wing membrane, barely penetrating the thin flesh around the weeping tears. The dragon makes a disgruntled sound, wing tensing in Rhodey’s hands; Tony coos, wrapping his arms entirely around her thin body, cuddling her into his chest. The anesthetic doesn’t seem to work for the entire span of the tears, since the dragon whimpers and makes hurt little sounds as the nurse starts to stitch from the middle of the wing down towards its edge.

Rhodey grimaces as he watches the nurse’s progress, some deep part of him recoiling at the tension in this tiny thing’s body and its sad sounds. Tony, too, seems to be in even more pain than the dragon; he coos and whispers comfort in a shaking voice the whole way through. There’s a pit in Rhodey’s stomach as the nurse moves to another tear, and he actually feels a bit lightheaded as she works on the third. He’s never been fainthearted, or woozy—but right now he feels like watching this dragon tense in pain and moan in discomfort will knock him out cold.

“One wing done,” the nurse says, pulling away ten minutes later. Rhodey carefully lets go of the dragon’s wing, letting it pull and settle in against the dragon’s side, folding awkwardly.

“A break, please,” Rhodey cuts in, before Tony has to speak through the moisture Rhodey can see collecting in his eyes. “Can we have five minutes?”

“Thanks, Rhodey,” Tony mutters as the nurse gives them some space. He rubs his hands down the dragon’s sides, soothing the trembling breaths. He’s breathing shakily, too.

“She okay?”

“Yeah. Just hurts. It’s not as bad—” he cuts off. “She’s okay.”

Oh, _Tony_. Rhodey has been so swept up in the joy of finding Tony alive he’d forgotten all of the horrific shit he must have gone through, wherever he was. What they both have been through. Rhodey can guess—can guess how he got away, too, judging by the smell of gunpowder and flames that still clings to Tony’s skin—but in the end, that’s for whatever reports Tony will have to file with the military and DoD.

“Yeah, buddy,” Rhodey agrees. “You’re _both_ okay.”

Tony smiles. He’s got a blooming black eye, a half dozen contact burns, and a handful of superficial cuts littered across his face all throughout his sunburn. Even with the wounds and the bruises, he looks more like the friend Rhodey left in the fun-vee than ever.

“Yeah,” Tony replies. The dragon’s head lifts and turns towards Rhodey, blue eyes shining; she makes an adorable cooing sound, tongue flicking out towards him before returning to her place in the crook of Tony’s neck. Tony runs his good hand across her head, rubbing at the skin behind her jaw, loving and soft.

Rhodey can’t help but smile.

*

That night, Rhodey stays with Tony and his dragon.

Tony falls asleep, but it’s fitful and restless; he only settles when the infant dragon squirms and rests its weight heavily on Tony’s chest. The light from the arc reactor in his chest (Tony had sworn it wasn’t a bomb, but its light in his chest still makes Rhodey’s skin crawl) lights up their little room in soft blue light.

Rhodey looks at the both of them. His eyes naturally follow the lines of this alien little creature, with gemstone scales and bat-like wings. She’s like a cat in how she curls and lays, a bird with her wings, a lizard with her scales—but something older, something that looks like it crawled out of the first of the primordial oceans. Something ancient, something new. Something _golden_.

He lifts his eyes from the baby’s body to Tony. His face is battered, eyes heavy with dark bags; he looks small and dirty in the whiteness of the bed, beaten and bruised but breathing. Rhodey—for all his hope, his stubbornness, his beliefs—

Thank _God_ Tony is alive. That’s all he can think. Thank you, God, thank you. He still feels lightheaded from before and from the relief and the terror of losing him, the guilt of not being there to protect him, it was  _his_ fault, he should have been right beside Tony, right there, like always, like Tony's always been for the important things—

Tony grimaces in his sleep, legs shifting. The dragon moans lightly, teeth clacking. They look like they’re sharing a nightmare.

Rhodey reaches out and holds Tony’s wrist, squeezing lightly. He’s warm and hot, sunburnt even here. Tony’s grimace fades, body loosening. The baby dragon relaxes.

 _Thank you,_ Rhodey thinks again, bleary with relief. _Thank you for looking out for him. For both of them._

*

They land in Malibu two days after they find Tony and his dragon. Tony absolutely refuses to let Rhodey push his wheelchair down to the car (“I’ve got a sprained wrist, Rhodey, Christ, not two broken legs!”) so Rhodey helps lever him up as the cargo bay ramp lowers.

Tony’s baby girl climbs from her place on his lap and up to his shoulders, nails digging into the suit they’d picked up in their brief North Carolina layover. Rhodey smiles at her, briefly, as her newly-stitched wings flare and nearly whack him on the head. Flying with her had been…an _adventure,_ to put it nicely. She’s an overly curious, loud thing.

Pepper looks like the entire world has changed right before her eyes. She’s standing alone, set apart from Hogan. Her eyes are red and blotchy, locked on Tony’s face and the dragon on his shoulders. Rhodey smiles at her in relief and support as Tony gets to flat ground and seems to find his stride.

Rhodey gives them some space. After a quick conversation, Tony makes his way to the car, ducking down and collecting the dragon into his arms before sitting. Rhodey catches Pepper before she follows.

“Pep,” he says. Her eyes catch his, steely and relieved and wet. “I’ve never seen him act like this,” he tells her, urgently. He tries to convey the emotions and strangeness of the past two days, of how this little dragon has changed their friend. “He loves that dragon. It’s—just, be careful how you handle it, okay?”

Pepper looks at him. She nods. “Thank you, Rhodey,” she whispers. He nods, accepts a brief hug, and watches her duck into the car. They pull away and for a second, he swears he can see a glint of gold in the rear window, like a sparkling gem of contained sunlight.

Rhodey shakes his head and smiles. Of course Tony Stark would have hatched a dragon. Only him.

**

Pepper Potts has seen a lot of strange things while in the employment of Tony Stark.

None of them come within five miles of Tony bringing home a _dragon_ from Afghanistan.

Pepper eyes the dragon once more. Tony’s fallen asleep over the workbench again, exhausted after refusing to sleep since he came back and dropped the bombshell of Stark Industries future in weapons production. He hit a peak of near-mania after his dragon attacked Obie, working in a frenzy. Pepper had given him his space, like he needs when he gets like this, but now he's finally crashed into exhaustion.

The dragon is still awake. Her eyes have been following Pepper ever since she came down looking for Tony. It’s unsettling how similar the shade of her irises matches the arc reactor in Tony’s chest—that simple ring of light that keeps Tony alive, that’s seemed to center him in a way that nothing else ever has.

“Hello,” she murmurs. The dragon’s posted up right next to Tony’s body, curled and protective, like a sentinel. “I’m glad he’s sleeping,” she continues, more to herself. Tony’s tried to convince her the dragon can understand her, but she’s not so sure yet. She goes to his couch and pulls a dusty blanket free; she approaches Tony and the dragon quietly, careful of her heels on the cement.

She looks at the dragon again, in her eyes. The dragon looks back. Pepper carefully lays the blanket over his shoulders, trying not to wake him. Tony barely stirs, breathing soft and steady.

Her tail flicks, but she doesn’t lunge. After a moment, her perked fawn ears relax.

Pepper smiles. She leaves Tony’s side and rounds him, moving a handful of pointy tools away from him and the dragon. As she does, the dragon watches, but doesn’t regain her tension. After a moment, Pepper pauses, looking at her.

She remembers what the dragon had felt like beneath her hand, warm and scaly and—somehow unspeakably ancient, like she had put her hand against a tree whose seed was planted on Pangea. Warm like stones against a fire. That had been under Tony’s supervision, for only a moment. This is different. This is only Virginia Potts and the first dragon on Earth in hundreds of thousands of years.

The dragon watches her in return. Pepper slowly reaches out. The dragon’s head rears back, a brief warning; Pepper halts, open palmed, silent and wanting but not demanding. The dragon sniffs her fingers, tongue flicking. There’s a tickle both against her palm and the back of her mind, like a wind has blown cold air against the nape of her neck.

Gooseflesh stands rigid on her skin as the dragon presses her face forward into Pepper’s hand. She is just as warm and scaly and alive, but softer now—but harder, too. Like glass warmed by sunlight. Pepper strokes her fingers against the scales, feeling how they catch against the ridges of her skin. The dragon hums. After another moment, she pulls away, ears perked, eyes soft.

Pepper pulls her hand back. She smiles. The dragon makes a soft, pleased sound and closes her eyes, settling her head against Tony’s hair. Pepper thinks she sees the moment the dragon falls asleep.

Pepper retreats. Her entire arm feels warm.

**Author's Note:**

> Ayyo, hope you enjoyed!!
> 
> Let me know if you liked this little thing! If you have something you'd like to see from the main story timeline, let me know! Want to see more Loki and June? Or some moments of Tony and Loki? Other characters bonding? hmu!! I'm always looking for distraction from my school work and I love writing these things!!
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading!! I hope to see you guys soon!! xxx


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